


An Alternate Destiny

by brynnmbutler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11094264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brynnmbutler/pseuds/brynnmbutler
Summary: First impressions always matter. Always. You can never go back from what you say or do to a person upon your first meeting.Hermione Granger, muggleborn, finds her path to success in the wizarding world blocked by the pureblooded Draco Malfoy. They clash strongly, yet they feel drawn to one another in spite of all the pain they've caused each other.DRAMIONE FAN FICTIONAll characters, and some content as well, belong to J.K. Rowling!





	1. First Impressions

Some people could be so rude. Really, I didn't understand it. How could I hate someone at first sight? It wasn't like me at all. In my defense, however, this boy had been so pompous. I'm not sure what, but something about my name had changed his attitude entirely. He simply scrunched his face in a scowl before stalking off down the train. And now here he was in front of me, offering his friendship to Potter.  
Potter, of course, being the legendary Harry Potter. I watched as the foul boy insulted Potter's new friend Ronald Weasley. Not that I blamed him. The Weasley was a curious boy. Obviously, he was not very hygienic, judging by the dirt on his nose. Someone would have to fix that. As soon as the blonde and his cronies left, I stomped toward the compartment.  
The floor was littered with sweets, and the Weasley boy was holding up his rat by the tail. How awful! "What has been going on?" I asked, genuinely curious as to why the compartment was now a sty and the rat was practically being abused.  
"I think he's been knocked out," Weasley began, leaning in to study his rat closer. I tuned out as they spoke of the boy from before; I didn't want to know about him anyway. He was a pompous jerk and that was all there was to say about it. The ginger turned to me. "Can we help you with something?"  
Shocked by his rude addressing of me, I said what I had come to say as quickly as possible. "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up front to ask the conductor and he says we're nearly there." I took in the boys' disheveled states once more. "You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"  
Weasley scowled at me, his nasty attitude growing nastier. "Scabbers has been fighting, not us. Would you mind leaving while we change?"  
"All right - I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors." I huffed as I made the impulsive decision to burst Weasley's bubble. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?" On that note, I turned and left.

* * *

 

I picked at my nails as I watched the sorting hat sort all of the children before me. Looking up at the 'sky', I distracted myself by remembering what Hogwarts: A History had said about the bewitched ceiling. I knew what house I wanted to be in, but there was no guarantee of anything. The boy two before me, Justin Finch-Fletchley, was sorted into Hufflepuff, and the one after him, Seamus Finnigan, was sorted into Gryffindor (even if it did take the hat a few minutes to decide). If I was lucky, Seamus would be one of my housemates.

"Granger, Hermione!" called out Professor McGonagall. I made my way up to the stool quickly, careful not to run, and put the hat on my head as quickly as possible.  
"I see you have a strong desire for knowledge, very nice," a small voice in my ear spoke to me. "But what do you wish to do with that knowledge, I wonder? Ravenclaw would be a good fit. However, I see that you want to prove yourself by using your knowledge and skill. If you wish to take the floor, you'd be at home in GRYFFINDOR!" I smiled widely and ran over to the table of cheering students. I was so pleased that I almost didn't notice Weasley's groan of displeasure. Almost.  
After I sat down and greeted some of the Gryffindors, they had gotten past a few more students. The boy who I had helped find his toad on the train got sorted into Gryffindor, and I made sure to say "hello again, Neville" to him too. I didn't understand it, but my attention was piqued when I heard the name "Malfoy, Draco" called.  
"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the hat, after less than a millisecond of contact with his blonde head. A curious bit of pain flowered in my chest, but I chose to ignore it. Of course it didn't have anything to do with the fact that 'Malfoy, Draco' and I were in different houses. That would be absolutely absurd. Potter was also sorted into Gryffindor, along with Weasley shortly after. That Weasley boy did not like me. Frankly, I wasn't too fond of him either. He could toss off for all I cared.


	2. The Midnight Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First impressions always matter. Always. You can never go back from what you say or do to a person upon your first meeting.
> 
> Hermione Granger, muggleborn, finds her path to success in the wizarding world blocked by the pureblooded Draco Malfoy. They clash strongly, yet they feel drawn to one another in spite of all the pain they've caused each other. 
> 
> DRAMIONE FAN FICTION  
> All characters, and some content as well, belong to J.K. Rowling!

I practically ran to my first Potions lesson. I was so excited for all of my classes, and I just wanted to meet my teachers and put my knowledge to the test. The teacher didn't seem too welcoming, but I didn't care much about that. It was a bit chilly in the dungeons. I shivered as the teacher, Professor Snape, called roll. He paused at Potter's name, just as everyone seemed to do, but I was too busy getting my quills, ink, and parchment ready to notice, or care about, what he was saying to him.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," I perked up immediately at this. Desperate to hear what Professor Snape had to say, I sat up straighter and focused hard. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

I was aghast.  _Me_ , Hermione Granger, a  _dunderhead_? Not a chance. Never in a million years. By the end of his speech, I was perched on the edge of my chair and ready to start the class.

"Potter!" Professor Snape shouted this out so suddenly that I practically fell back into my chair. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" I knew this! It was the Draught of Living Death! I raised my hand, just as I would have done at my old primary school, even though the question was not directed to me.

"I don't know, sir." I felt bad for Potter then. It seemed that Professor Snape did not like Harry Potter one bit. He didn't even  _know_  the poor boy!

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything." His gaze traveled, landed on my hand in the air, and ignored it. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to go find me a bezoar?"

Malfoy and his sidekicks were shaking with laughter. I shot a glare at the foul little blonde boy and stretched my hand higher in the air. Maybe Professor Snape wouldn't ignore me this time. I even tried to telepathically communicate the answer to Potter, but it didn't work.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Poor Potter. If only he had read  _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi._ Then he would know that a bezoar came from the stomach of a goat! "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Honestly, Professor Snape was asking the easiest questions I had ever heard! They were the same plant! I willed Potter to know the answer; even Weasley probably had a clue of it. I stood up, my hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," Potter spoke quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?" I smiled proudly at this. Was I the only one in the class who actually  _knew_  this information?

Professor Snape gave me a glare that would rival Malfoy's on any day. "Sit down," he snapped at me. I sat, discouraged, and tried not to show my great disappointment. Malfoy was looking at me from across the room, so I narrowed my eyes at him as menacingly as I could manage. He simply chuckled and smirked before looking away. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." Aha! I was right on all three! "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

I wrote down the information that I already knew as quickly as possible while everyone else searched their bags for quills and parchment. Well, almost everyone. I looked around me and noticed that Malfoy was, once again, staring at me from across the room. His smirk was still on his face as I whipped my head back to the front of the classroom. What a strange and arrogant boy.

* * *

 

After having some of my own bad luck during the first flying lesson, Neville Longbottom's trumped my own as he was practically thrown from his broomstick and fell some twenty-odd feet to the ground. I watched with sympathy as Madam Hooch escorted him to the hospital wing.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" I whipped my head around to see that none other than Draco Malfoy had made the rude comment and was now laughing hysterically, along with the other Slytherins.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil, another Gryffindor.

Pansy Parkinson, who I didn't know but could tell I wasn't going to like, chimed in. "Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom? Never thought  _you'd_  like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

At that moment, Malfoy ran over to what seemed like a glittering spot in the grass. "Look! It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." He held up Neville's Remembrall.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry Potter, speaking up when no one else would. I saw Malfoy twist his face into a nasty smile.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it  _here_!"

Malfoy jumped onto his broom and shot up into the air. "Come and get it, Potter!"

" _No_!" I shouted as Potter grabbed his broom. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all in trouble." Gryffindor would get points taken, Potter's fault  _again_ , and we simply could not afford that. He ignored me, as usual, and shot up into the air after Malfoy.

Up in the air, Potter and Malfoy seemed to have some sort of stand-off that ended with Malfoy tossing the Remembrall and racing back toward that ground. Keeping my eye on Potter, I prepared to scold Malfoy once he was out of the air.

"Malfoy! What were you thinking?" I shouted at him before his feet touched the grass. He turned toward me, annoyed, yet still smirked like he always did. "This is  _your_ fault. Now we'll all get in trouble."

"Potter's the one who is still in the air," he commented casually, arrogantly climbing off of his broom.

"While that may be true, you're the one who started this whole thing, and I think it was simply awful of you to -"

"HARRY POTTER!" In the time that I had been focused on telling off Malfoy, Potter had caught Neville's Remembrall. No sooner than he toppled onto the ground, Professor McGonagall was running toward all of us. " _Never_  - in all my time at Hogwarts - how  _dare_  you - might have broken your neck -"

Despite Patil and Weasley's attempts to protest, McGonagall simply wouldn't hear it. She dragged Potter off and the rest of us dispersed. After shooting Malfoy a well-deserved glare, I stalked off to where I would spend the rest of the class - the library.

* * *

 

Dinner that night was rather eventful. I was reading, as usual, when I overheard a particularly interesting conversation. Potter had returned and was telling the tale of his new Quidditch position.

"You're  _joking_." Weasley had stopped shoveling massive amounts of food in his mouth - if any Gryffindor was a 'fat lump' then it was him - and stared open-mouthed at Potter. " _Seeker_? But first years  _never_  - you must be the youngest house player in about -"

" - a century," Potter finished for him, also eating large amounts of food. At this point, I tuned out. Even though I was never originally part of their conversation, Weasley's voice was so loud that I couldn't help listening anyway, I was also completely uninterested in Quidditch.

Upon returning to my book, I was very displeased to be interrupted seconds later when I saw the dreaded Malfoy returning to tease Potter once more. "Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting on the train back to the Muggles?" I rolled my eyes.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," responded Potter, surprisingly calm considering how hot-headed he had seemed to be thus far. I couldn't help but raise my eyebrow at that comment. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Malfoy's followers, were neither little nor his friends. I'd bet a galleon that Malfoy didn't even know their first names.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own. Tonight, if you want," he said proudly, which caught my attention more. I raised my gaze slightly from my book to look at the 'legendary' Draco Malfoy. "Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact." Harry didn't answer. I wouldn't either; the thought of taking part in such reckless behavior was absolutely sickening. "What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

Weasley, who always seemed to be sticking his dirty nose in places it didn't belong, took offense to this. "Of course he has. I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle sizing them up. If I were him, I wouldn't want to choose either. "Crabbe," he finally decided. I suppose, if I had to make the same choice, I would choose whoever could put together the most coherent sentence. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked." With that, Draco Malfoy left, his 'friends' trailing behind him, and Potter looked at Weasley in confusion.

"What  _is_  a wizard's duel?" asked Potter, confirming Malfoy's suspicions. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Weasley casually.

"Quite good with words, aren't you, Weasley?" I muttered to myself quietly.

"But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose."

"Excuse me," I chimed in, unable to listen to them  _actually_  planning such a huge break of the rules.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" Weasley muttered rudely.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying -"

"Bet you could," interjected Weasley. I glared at him as I finished my sentence.

"- and you  _mustn't_  go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you." Though I would never admit it out loud, I was actually a tiny bit worried about Potter's safety. Malfoy was a pureblood; his abilities couldn't be underestimated.

"And it's really none of your business," responded Potter.

"Good-bye," finished Weasley.

These two were so rude! I scooted away and continued to read my book, seething with anger. I guess that's what I get for trying to help two idiots like them.

* * *

 

Later that night, at precisely eleven-fifteen, I went to the common room to wait for Potter and Weasley to arrive. They'd come down at some point. Even though they had been extremely rude to me, I still didn't want Gryffindor to lose any points. As soon as they came downstairs, I waited for the right time to reveal my presence. Just when the two boys were a few feet from the portrait hole, I spoke up.

"I can't believe you're going to do this, Potter." I turned on the lamp next to me as I spoke.

" _You_! Go back to bed!" shouted Weasley, obviously furious.  _He_  should go back to bed.

"I almost told your brother, Percy - he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

"Come on," muttered Potter, pulling Weasley through the portrait hole with him. As if I was going to just let them go. I quickly followed after them.

"Don't you  _care_  about Gryffindor, do you  _only_  care about yourselves,  _I_  don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away."

"All right," I conceded. It was late, and I was tired. "But I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so -" I turned back toward the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was gone. "Now what am I going to do?"

"That's your problem. We've got to go," snapped Weasley, "we're going to be late."

I chased after them and, after a bit of light persuading, they allowed me to tag along. I think part of why they didn't send me off to be caught by Filch had to do with the fact that Neville Longbottom was also locked out of Gryffindor tower and didn't want to be left alone.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Weasley whispered after we had been in the trophy room for much longer than I would have liked. I nearly scoffed, but I didn't want to make any noises. This whole scenario seemed rather strange. Had Malfoy really wanted to duel, he would've made his way here by now.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

I knew who that voice belonged to. Mr. Filch, who was speaking to his cat Mrs. Norris. My heart pounded against my ribs. We ran away from the sound of his voice. "They're in here somewhere, probably hiding."

As we ran through a corridor lined with suits of armor, Neville fell into Weasley who then fell into a suit of armor. Loud enough to wake the whole castle, the crashing and clattering were enough to make me run as fast as I possibly could.

"I think we've lost him," panted Potter once we had traveled through a hidden corridor and emerged by our Charms classroom.

"I -  _told_  - you," I gasped; my lungs felt like they were on fire. "I - told - you." Whilst basking in the glory of being correct, I realized something: Filch  _knew_  that someone would be in the trophy room, meaning that he had been given some sort of tip from someone else.

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower, quickly as possible," said Weasley, voicing my thoughts from the whole night.

I turned to Potter. "Malfoy tricked you. You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off." 

"Let's go," muttered Potter, completely ignoring the fact that I was right.

We eventually made it back to Gryffindor tower, but only after being nearly ratted-out by Peeves, finding the forbidden third-floor corridor, and seeing one of the largest dogs to ever walk the planet.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" I snapped after Weasley questioned why a creature like that would be in the castle anyway. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" I rolled my eyes at Potter's suggestion. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No,  _not_  the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." These two imbeciles were the dunderheads that Professor Snape had talked about during his Potions lecture on the first day. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."


	3. Troll in the Dungeons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First impressions always matter. Always. You can never go back from what you say or do to a person upon your first meeting.
> 
> Hermione Granger, muggleborn, finds her path to success in the wizarding world blocked by the pureblooded Draco Malfoy. They clash strongly, yet they feel drawn to one another in spite of all the pain they've caused each other. 
> 
> DRAMIONE FAN FICTION  
> All characters, and some content as well, belong to J.K. Rowling!

A few weeks later, on Halloween, I was still ignoring Potter and Weasley. Unfortunately, I was paired up with Weasley in Charms, which forced me to be civil towards him. A fire nearby caught my attention; Seamus had made his feather explode.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" shouted Weasley. His arms flailed about, nearly hitting me and anyone else within three feet of him. There were so many things wrong with what he was doing. I simply  _had_  to point something out.

"You're saying it wrong," I snapped. "It's Wing- _gar_ -dium Levi- _o_ -sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." At least this way I could put my irritation to use and give him some tips as well.

"You do it, then, if you're so clever."

I pushed up the sleeves of my robe and finally gave it a shot; I had been too distracted by everything going on around me to try it before. " _Wingardium Leviosa_!" I said, flicking my wand as I did so.

The feather, that I had to  _share_  with Weasley, rose off of our desk as I guided it to about four feet above my head.

"Oh, well done! Everyone see here," announced Professor Flitwick, clapping as he did so. "Miss Granger's done it!"

* * *

 

After spending the rest of the class being ignored by Weasley, which I was quite fine with thank you very much, it was finally over. 

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," said Weasley. He was talking to Potter, rather loudly I might add, and I was right behind them as we pushed into a crowded corridor. "She's a nightmare, honestly." Before he had even finished his sentence, I knew who he was talking about.

Me.

I pushed past them as quickly as I could and made a beeline for the girls' bathroom. From behind me, I overheard Weasley say one more thing. 

"She must've noticed she's got no friends."

I made it into the girls' bathroom and just stayed there all day. No way was I going to get in Weasley's way and offend his sensitive ego. I probably wouldn't tell anyone that I spent all of my time in there crying. After a bit, possibly half-an-hour, I pulled out some parchment, a quill, and some ink, and began to compose a letter to my parents.

_Dear_ mum _and dad,_

_I have been learning so much here at Hogwarts! It's been a while since we found out, yet I still find it hard to believe that I am a witch. Isn't that crazy?_

_Anyway, today is Halloween (though you won't get this until after). Despite the holiday, I have some bad news. I haven't made any friends. In fact, today I overheard some boys talking about me. One of them called me a 'nightmare'! Imagine that! In fact, it was the same boys whom I tried to warn about the duel with the Malfoy boy._

_I hope that I will feel better about it soon. As of now, I am not very happy. But don't worry about me. I just wanted to update you on the situation here at school. I'm sure that I will be fine by the end of the day._

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

* * *

 

Shortly before dinner time, I heard the door open, which was curious considering the fact that nobody had come in here since Parvati Patil first found me crying.

"Granger?" called out a voice. A familiar voice. "Granger, are you in here?"

I sniffed and wiped the tears off of my cheeks. "What do you want," I snapped.

"Well, I just..." the voice trailed off.

Infuriated, I burst out of the stall and was very surprised to see a  _boy_  standing in the middle of the  _girls'_  bathroom. 

"Malfoy?" I shouted, incredulous. "What are  _you_  doing here?"

"Shh," he put his hand over my mouth. "Someone could hear you!" I immediately ripped his hand away from my mouth. He was, after all, an eleven-year-old boy; he wasn't very strong. His hand was surprisingly warm, but I tried my best to ignore that fact.

"Get your hand off of me," I mumbled angrily. "What do you want?" I crossed my arms as I glared at him.

"Well, I heard that you had been in here crying all day and -"

"Who told you that?"

"Nobody  _told_  me. I overheard some girls from Gryffindor talking about it." Malfoy looked down at his feet nervously. "I wanted to come see if you were okay," he whispered quietly.

I rubbed my eyes to get rid of any trace of tears. "Well I am just fine, so there's nothing for you to worry about," I said firmly. I thought I sounded pretty convincing, but apparently Malfoy didn't.

"Granger, you're a horrid liar. Even  _I_  can see that, even though we aren't even friends." He took a step toward me. "What happened?"

"It's none of your business, Malfoy." I turned away from him.

"If this is the fault of Potty and his Weasel, I swear I'll -"

"You'll what? Beat them up? Give them a stern talking to? For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, even  _I_  know that you can't do any of that. Do you have any idea ow suspicious that will seem? Not to mention if your precious father catches wind of you defending someone like me!" I turned back toward him as I spoke, my hands gesturing wildly to make my point. "Face it, you can't do anything about how I feel. Just leave me alone!"

"So they did do this to you!" he shouted, enraged. "How dare they! It's completely barbaric to make a girl cry, especially you."

"Why ' _especially_ ' me, Malfoy? Has your father not drilled it into you enough? I'm  _no good_!" Tears began to flow again as I yelled back at him.

"You  _are_  good, Hermione!" I gasped at his use of my first name. Nobody had addressed me by that since I had come to Hogwarts. "Don't think I haven't heard about what you did in Charms today. That information spread around the whole school within an hour. And you're right, my father probably  _hasn't_  yelled at me enough about how I should be better than any Muggle-born because I don't think I should be better than you. You work so hard, Hermione, anyone could see that. I'd bet 1,000 Galleons right now that You'll be top of our class for all seven years here at Hogwarts. So don't try to tell me that you're 'no good', or I'll have no choice but to torture you until you get the fact that you're absolutely brilliant through your amazingly absorbent skull!"

I was speechless. Completely speechless. The nicest things that anyone had ever said to me in my life were spoken by none other than one of the three boys that I hated the most. Of course, after this altercation, he was the closest thing to a friend I had. I didn't even realize that tears were pouring down my cheeks until he took a step closer and wiped them off of my face. "Malfoy, do you -"

"Draco," he interrupted me.

"What?"

"My name is Draco."

"Okay, then. D-Draco," I tested out his name, It felt surprisingly smooth on my tongue. "Do you really mean all of that?"

"Of course I do. If Potty and his Weasel opened their eyes, they'd see it too."

Before he finished his sentence, I pulled him into a tight hug. He seemed shocked as if he'd never been hugged before. "Thank you, Draco," I said as he finally lifted his arms and wrapped them around me gently.

He was first to pull away. "Well, I'd better go now. Dinner has already started. I expect to see you there; I don't want you skipping another meal. It's not healthy." Draco, as I would now refer to him, walked out of the girls' bathroom and left me to smile like an idiot.

* * *

 

Terrified. That was the only way to describe how I felt in this moment. Absolute, petrifying terror. A large twelve-foot troll just stumbled its way into the bathroom, and I was now trapped with it. Alone. I pressed myself against the wall in a desperate effort to get as far from the troll as possible. He neared me, knocking the sinks off the walls as he went.

"Confuse it!" I heard a voice shout. Too scared to even look for what made the noise, I watched as the troll stopped a few feet away from me before turning away and heading in the other direction.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled someone, causing the troll to change direction once more.

"Come on, run,  _run_ ," I heard someone yell at me. I was vaguely aware of a tugging on my hand, but I simply couldn't move. My eyes were locked on the troll. I heard more yelling and roaring as I sunk to the floor in fear.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" shouted a voice, raising the troll's club and dropping it onto his head. The troll fell to the ground with a thud that made the whole room, possibly even the whole castle, tremble.

"Is it - dead?" I asked quietly.

"I don't think so," said the same voice that had been telling me to run just a few minutes earlier. "I think it's just been knocked out." The boy pulled his wand out of the troll's nose, and it was covered in a lumpy grey glue. "Urgh - troll boogers," he said, wiping it off on the troll's trousers.

When the door slammed open, I finally surveyed the whole situation. Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Professor Quirrell made their way into the room. Professor McGonagall looked livid, even angrier than she had seemed the day that Potter caught Neville's Remembrall.

Potter. Harry Potter. He was in here too. I looked at the two boys who had saved me from my plight. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Dear Merlin, I owed them my life.

"What on earth were you thinking of? You're lucky you weren't killed," exclaimed Professor McGonagall. "Why aren't you in your dormitory?" Potter - or Harry, as I should probably call him now - looked at Ronald, who was holding his wand in the air. Both seemed at a loss for words. It was only fair that I step in now.

"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me," I said as I stepped forward, having finally gotten to my feet after the professors entered the room.

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall seemed astonished. In fact, I was sure that she knew that I hadn't been to the rest of my classes since Charms and that I wasn't at lunch  _or_  dinner.

"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them," I began softly. Even though I didn't know about the troll until  _after_  it had cornered me, this lie was worth a shot. "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead no. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." If I was going to lie, I might as well put some truth in it as well.

"Well - in that case..." Professor McGonagall seemed at a loss for words. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" I hung my head in shame. Ron looked absolutely dumbfounded, and I couldn't help but feel the same. How could I have lied to a teacher? "Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

As I turned the corner away from the girls' bathroom, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. I opened my mouth to scream, but a hand was covering it in no time.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

"Malfoy," I whispered angrily. "What are you doing? You should be in the Slytherin dungeons right now, or else you'll get in trouble."

"I know, but I heard you scream from down the corridor. I ran here to see if you were okay, but Potty and his Weasel were already in there. I had to hide from the teachers, but I just need to make sure that you are okay."

"Yes, I am fine. A troll found its way in and nearly attacked me, but Harry and Ronald saved me."

"Oh, you're on a first-name basis now?" Draco crossed his arms in disapproval of my newfound tolerance of the two. "Have you forgotten  _why_  you were even in the bathroom all day in the first place?"

"They saved my life, Draco! What else am I supposed to do?"

"I'll never forgive them for making you cry like that. Life savers or not, only barbarians would make a girl as beautiful as you cry."

I ignored his beauty comment, crossing my arms to imitate his position. "Regardless,  _Malfoy_ , I must get back to my common room to have dinner. Also, it'll seem suspicious if I make it back after Harry and Ronald." I began to walk away, but a hand grabbing my hand stopped me.

"Hermione, I -"

"Goodnight, Draco. Sleep well."

Upon arriving back at the Gryffindor common room, I waited by the door for Harry and Ronald to arrive. Despite wanting to eat dinner, since I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, I simply  _had_  to thank them for what they did.

They cautiously walked through the portrait hole and their eyes widened upon seeing me. "Thanks," we all mumbled at the same time, before rushing off to get a bit of the feast before it was all gone.

Even though I was a nightmare, according to them, I felt some sort of bond with them after the incident. Of course, it'd be impossible to fight off a twelve-foot troll together and still harbor resentment.


	4. Pre-Holiday Quarrels

In the few months before Christmas, Harry and Ron and I spent most of our time perusing various books to disclose who the elusive Nicholas Flamel was. Well, at least I was spending my free time doing so. When I wasn't in class, finishing homework, studying for my classes, or helping Harry and Ron with their academics, I was in the library with my nose in a book that could hopefully tell me what I needed to know. This wasn't my usual reading since it wasn't just for fun. Oh, no, this reading was important. After all, we needed to discover who Nicholas Flamel was in order to figure out more about that beast in the forbidden third-floor corridor. He definitely had something to do with it. Hagrid had said so.

Naturally, I spent all of my free time in the library and checked out any books that I didn't get the chance to finish before curfew. One particular night in November, shortly after I began looking for Nicholas Flamel, I was rudely interrupted while I sat in the library. The table that I occupied was covered with various books, all of which were open and in use by me. Suddenly, a shadow blocked my light. That was it. Somebody simply came up and stood in the way of my reading. The person didn't say anything or make any noise at all. Finally, I was forced to look upward.

Ah, so Granger does care about her surroundings," sneered the one and only Draco Malfoy. "I would have imagined you'd be too busy reading to take notice of what was going on around you." He stood at the edge of my table. Alone.

"You were blocking my light, you know. I'm trying to research," I sighed as I spoke. Honestly, could he be more annoying? "Besides,  _Malfoy,_ where are your loyal followers. I haven't seen you without them since Halloween."

His face paled, if possible, as he lost a piece of his facade. "They're not here," he nearly stuttered. "Is that a problem?" With that, his eyes narrowed to glare at me again.

"Have you just got too annoying for them, as well?" I turned back and pretended to be reading my book. Of course, I still couldn't see well enough to read. "I wouldn't have considered them the type to think for themselves. Everyone is full of surprises, I suppose."

"You're merely jealous. All you have are Potty and his Weasel!" His nose scrunched up as he thought of my friends. As he said these words, he pushed my things aside and leaned on the table.

"Would you watch it?" I snapped as one of the books nearly fell off of the table. "These aren't mine, you know," I chastised him for his negligence. But if they were my books, he'd likely have a broken nose by now.

"You seem to have more books than usual, Granger. Why would that be? I understand that exams are coming up, but I wouldn't have you pegged as the type to study all subjects at once."

"Stuff it, Malfoy." I slammed my book shut and started to pick up the volumes surrounding me.

I could see some light enter Malfoy's eyes. He looked like a boy on Christmas day. His face still kept calm as he spoke once more. "I must have chanced on a nerve. Afraid you'll get low marks this term? Or could it be that you aren't studying at all?" He spoke haughtily as if he owned the world. I, of course, remained silent. I had learned by now that any reaction would simply encourage him.

My lack of reaction, however, did not sit well with Malfoy. "You certainly have a lot of books there," he said as he blocked my path to put them away. I simply tried to sidestep him, sighing as I did so. "You know, it's not polite to ignore people Granger."

That did it. "If you want to know so badly, why don't you look yourself," I snapped. Before he could respond, I had dropped my stack of books into his arms and pushed past him. Of course, I had to turn at least once to catch the look on his face. It was absolutely priceless. He stood slack-jawed until after I had completely left the library.

* * *

 

The holidays were here. I was so excited because I would get to see my family again. Last time I saw them we had been celebrating my birthday. It had been an early celebration since school at Hogwarts started 18 days before my birthday. I mused about all of my birthdays that I could recall. We always had so much fun with a cake and balloons. And Christmas would be even more special this year since I hadn't seen my parents in so long. After all, it was a time for bonding and being thankful.

"Granger," a voice broke me out of my thoughts. I hadn't heard the sound of the compartment door opening, nor had I seen it happen. I mentally rolled my eyes. Of course, he would be here to annoy me again.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I was merely wondering if you were going back to the filthy Muggle place you call 'home.'" A smirk spread across his face as he said this. I scowled harshly.

"No, I'm going back to a place where I have parents who love me." I crossed my arms over my chest and brought up my chin indignantly. "I'm sure you wouldn't recognize the feeling." With that comment, his face paled and his ears turned crimson. I guess I had found a chink in his armor.

"My parents care for me," he spat. "I'm their only son, as well as the Malfoy heir. They have to devote all of their attention to me, so I'm sure they adore me." After that, he kept on. I, of course, did not listen. This time would be the perfect opportunity to really study him. He was nearly 11 centimeters taller than I was, so he stood about 161 centimeters total. Normally at this age, girls would be taller than boys. I supposed he was merely a tall person in general. Along with his height, he had long and thin limbs. He was the very definition of lanky. His tall stature and thin build made him stand out from a crowd. Nevertheless, he had little melanin. Consequently, he was pale. Very pale. Skin almost as white as parchment was accompanied by slicked-back hair of nearly the same color. His eyes were a light grey, yet held a hint of blue, like a sky as a storm came rolling in. Just like his body, his face was long and slender. With pointed features, he could possibly come off as intimidating. If only he weren't such a coward.

"Well, I suppose I misjudged you," I stated as soon as he had finished rambling. "Here I was thinking that you bullied people because you never received love as a child, but now I realize that you're mean because you're a hopeless git." He was speechless. Of course, he wouldn't be able to think of anything to say. I wouldn't put it beneath him to hit a girl, however.

"Hermione," Malfoy lowered his voice to almost a whisper as he turned his head to make certain there were no people near. "I  _have_  to be mean to you. You were right when you said that it would look suspicious if I stood up for you or even talked to you. Now, I'm not trying to get beaten to death by my father, which will definitely happen if I'm caught talking to you, but I do want to have the opportunity to speak to you. That's why I go out of my way to get you alone sometimes. You're smart, Hermione, and nobody else in our year even comes close to your level of intelligence. You make me so angry, but it definitely beats being surrounded by the blockheads infesting Hogwarts."

How dare he! How dare he try to talk to me as if he knew me. He knew nothing about me! We were not, and never would be, friends. "I guess you're right, Malfoy. Hogwarts  _is_  full of idiots led, of course, by the worst of them all. You."

"What is your problem, Granger? I am simply trying to be kind to you, and you're shooting me down!"

"Why should I believe you? Go tell your friends that your prank didn't work. I won't fall for that; you can't outsmart me."

He groaned with frustration and left my compartment, slamming the door behind him.

That barmy piece of rubbish! He invaded my compartment, insulted my family, told me I was smart and he wanted to talk to me, and then acted as if  _I_  had done something wrong. What nerve he had! His very existence angered me. I simply couldn't keep my cool around him.

I spent the rest of the train ride trying, yet failing, to push me out of my thoughts and simply think of seeing my mum and dad again. I had never sent that letter I wrote on Halloween to them. It got ruined sometime during the fight with the Troll. In fact, being Muggles, my parents had very little contact with me. Of course, now that I had some friends it wasn't as bad. At the beginning of the year, I cried myself to sleep nearly every night.

This small altercation with Malfoy would  _not_  ruin my holidays. We had spats nearly every day, so this one shouldn't bother me so much. But something about the way he complimented me kept me from moving past it.

* * *

 

_**Draco** _

That Granger was an enigma to me. Even though I knew I shouldn't, I liked her. I didn't fancy her or anything, Merlin forbid, but I certainly didn't hate her. She was smart, definitely smarter than I, or any other bloke in our year, was. Her wit was sharp and she always had a comeback for anyone who crossed her. Merlin help everyone once she learned hexes.

Something about her drew me in. A force beyond the understanding of my eleven-year-old mind. At this time, there was nothing that I could do about it. All I could do was hope and pray that I wouldn't bring her up while spending the holidays with my parents.


	5. Late-Night Dragon-Smuggling

The holidays were fun enough, I suppose. I got to visit my family for the first time in a while, and New Years is always fun. On Christmas, we stuck to our usual traditions: stockings, a tree, cookies and milk, and everything else. It was great fun as usual. On New Years, we went to London and watched the fireworks at midnight! It was all so much fun. I had been watching those on the telly for years and had always wanted to see them in person.

For some reason, I couldn't keep Malfoy off of my mind. Why would he compliment me like that? I also found myself babbling about him whenever possible.

"Mum, I'm serious. He's the worst human being to ever walk the earth," I persuaded her. "He is arrogant and vain. I swear he could even be narcissistic! He is so entitled just because he has money and I don't. Or because his line of descent is 'pure' and mine's all dirtied. It's absolutely asinine."

"Hermione, dear," my mum began softly. "You sound like you may fancy the boy."

"Me? Fancy Draco Malfoy? That's absurd!" How dare she say something like that? "I couldn't possibly think of him in any positive light. He'd have to go through a major personality shift in order to be a half-decent person. There's no way I could ever look straight at him anyway."

She simply looked at me knowingly, as if I was missing out on something obvious. I didn't bring up Malfoy around my mum for the rest of the vacation.

* * *

 

After the Christmas holiday, we still hadn't found any information on Nicholas Flamel. That is until one day when I was sitting in the common room with Ron. We were playing Wizard's Chess, which was fun and all, but I always lost every game.

Harry came into the common room and sat down next to Ronald. If anyone had asked me, he looked terrible. "Don't talk to me for a moment. I need to concen-" Ron cut himself off as soon as he saw Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible," said Ron, practically voicing my thoughts.

Harry leaned in and whispered about how Professor Snape had suddenly decided to become a Quidditch referee and that he was refereeing the next game against Slytherin.

"Don't play," I said as soon as he finished talking.

"Say you're ill," said Ron. I couldn't help but nod in agreement with his suggestion.

"Pretend to break your leg."

" _Really_  break your leg."

"I can't," Harry told us. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

Immediately after Harry finished his reasoning for having to play even though he didn't want to and would rather die, Neville Longbottom practically fell into the common room. I could see immediately that his legs were stuck together by the Leg-Locker Curse.

Everyone, including Harry and Ron, couldn't contain their laughter. Except I, of course, came to the rescue and performed the countercurse. He got to his feet on trembling legs and I led him over to sit with Harry and Ron.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Malfoy. I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" I urged him. That prat needed someone to teach him a lesson, and I'd be happy to do it myself. "Report him!"

"I don't want more trouble," Neville mumbled as he shook his head.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville barely choked out.

That was it! That slimy git Malfoy would get what was coming to him the next time I caught him alone. Harry quickly reached into his pocket and gave a Chocolate Frog to Neville.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville gave a weak smile. "Thanks, Harry...I think I'll go to bed...D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?" He gave the card to Harry and walked up to his dormitory.

"Dumbledore again," said Harry. "He was the first one I ever-" He stopped to stare down at the card, then looked up at Ron and me.

" _I've found him!_ " he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I  _told_  you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here- listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of twelve uses of dragon's blood,  _and for his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicholas Flamel_ '!"

I jumped up immediately. Alchemy! Of course! "Stay there!" I said and dashed up to my dormitory as quickly as I possibly could. I grabbed a book that I had checked out weeks before and ran back down to where the boys were waiting. "I never thought to look in here! I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

" _Light_?" asked Ron, but I simply hushed him and continued to look for what I knew I'd find. 

"I knew it! I  _knew_  it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" 

I ignored Ron's question and simply read from the book: "Nicholas Flamel is the  _only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone_!"

"The what?" said both Harry and Ron.

"Oh,  _honestly_ , don't you two read? Look- read that, there." I pointed to the passage in the book and read along with them.

The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.

There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

"See?" I said once Harry and Ron looked back up at me. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, since they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops anyone from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it!  _Anyone_  would want it."

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that  _Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_ ," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

* * *

 

Harry eventually decided to play in the Quidditch game and, after a small issue with Malfoy, Ron, and Neville that they were able to solve on their own with a small fight, all went well. Harry, being Harry, followed Professor Snape into the woods after the game and saw him talking to Professor Quirrell.

"Harry, where have you  _been_?" I asked, sounding slightly more squeaky than usual.

"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, patting Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye," I cringed internally at this comment. I'm not sure why, though. "And Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be alright- talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," said Harry as he gasped for breath. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this..."

He dragged us into a room and looked around outside and inside before closing the door. "So we were right, it  _is_  the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy- and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus'- I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spells that Snape needs to break through-"

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" I interrupted in disbelief and impatience.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.

* * *

 

Shortly before the holidays, we had figured out that Hagrid was now in possession of a dragon's egg. This was very dangerous, no matter how happy he seemed about it. When Hagrid sent Harry a note to tell him that it was hatching, Ronald suggested that we skip Herbology in order to see it. After arguing all the way to Herbology, I agreed to run down to Hagrid's with them during morning break.

"It's nearly out," said Hagrid as he ushered us inside his hut. The egg on the table had deep cracks in it and a clicking noise came from inside it.

"Isn't he  _beautiful_?" asked Hagrid after the baby dragon flopped onto the table. It had wings disproportionate to its body size, large orange eyes, a long snout with wide nostrils, and the small stubs of horns.

I studied the dragon carefully, missing what Hagrid said after that. "Hagrid," I began, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

No sooner than Hagrid had opened his mouth to answer me, his face drained of all color. He jumped to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry ran to the door and looked out.

"Malfoy saw the dragon," mumbled Harry, his face falling.

* * *

 

As soon as we left Hagrid's hut, I fed Harry and Ronald some tosh excuse about going to the library before I ran off to find Malfoy.

I finally caught up to him just inside the castle. "Hey, Malfoy," I called, grabbing whatever part of him was closest to me. It happened to be his hand, so that's how we ended up holding hands. Strangely enough, neither of us noticed this fact. It felt weirdly natural to have my hand in his. This fact, however, I did not realize until much later.

"Malfoy, what did you see?" I asked as menacingly as I could manage.

"Oh, nothing of importance to  _you_ , Granger. Though I'm sure the professors will find it very interesting," he tapped his chin in faux contemplation. He was mocking me! "Perhaps I won't tell them, but what would I get out of that?"

"Please, Malfoy, don't tell anyone. I'll do anything to ensure your silence. Hagrid only ever means well," I pleaded desperately.

"Hermione, dragons are dangerous.  _Very_  dangerous. That giant's tiny shack can barely hold him and his 'little' pet, let alone a full-grown dragon! I don't want anyone to get hurt, and getting scarhead expelled wouldn't be too bad either."

"No, I promise we will find a safe place to put the dragon. It'll all be fine." I spoke confidently, but even I did not believe my own words. "And don't call me Hermione!" I scolded.

He looked up at the ceiling in thought, or maybe he was simply rolling his eyes, before sighing heavily and returning his gaze to mine. "Alright,  _Granger_ ," he said, placing great emphasis on my surname. "You've managed to persuade me. I won't tell the headmaster," I sighed, a burden lifted off of my shoulders, before he spoke again. "But you'll have to do something for me."

I narrowed my eyes as I studied his face. His mouth was curled up into a smirk, a touch of deviousness shining in his grey eyes. "What do you want from me?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll let you know as soon as I think of it. So you and those two idiots you call friends are safe," he winked, badly, and continued, " _for now_."

"As if your friends are any better, Malfoy." I scoffed as I remembered what those two bumbling idiots that followed him around like lost puppies looked and acted like.

When I tried to turn and walk away, I found my hand caught in his. Of course, they had been together the whole time. Except now he wasn't letting go. I glared at him fiercely and ripped my hand away from his.

As I walked away, I contemplated the flash of disappointment that shone in his eyes when our hands parted. It also intrigued me that my hand now felt uncomfortably and unnaturally cold. And then I remembered: Malfoy had struck Neville with that Leg-Locking Curse!

"Oh, wait," I said, causing Malfoy to turn back around and look at me impatiently. I checked around to make sure nobody was near.

" _Locomotor Mortis_!" I spoke quietly, so as not to attract any unwanted attention, and tucked my wand back into my pocket. "Thanks, Malfoy. I've been looking for someone to practice that on," I smirked as I tossed his own words back into his stunned face.

* * *

 

Over the next week, Malfoy would wait to catch my eyes and smirk at me when he did. Harry and Ron grew increasingly worried by these looks, but I knew that Malfoy would never tell. We had made a deal. Of course, we might not have our deal anymore since I cursed him and all.

Since we had decided to send Norbert, the dragon, off to Romania to be with Ron's brother Charlie, we had to get him up to the top of the Astronomy Tower by midnight on Saturday. Unfortunately for Ron, he had left the letter of confirmation from Charlie in a book that Malfoy came and stole from him.

We went to retrieve Norbert from Hagrid at eleven-thirty on Saturday. We finally dragged the heavy cage to the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

"Nearly there," Harry panted. At that moment, we saw a sudden movement and almost dropped the heavy crate. We shrunk back into a dark corner, as if we weren't already invisible, and waited with baited breath.

"Detention!" shouted Professor McGonagall, who was clad in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how  _dare_  you-"

"You don't understand, Professor." whined the boy that she was dragging by his ear. I inspected him closely. The moonlight that shone through the windows revealed little, but I could see the color of his hair clear as day. Platinum blonde. Malfoy. "Harry Potter's coming- he's got a dragon!" Of course, he would rat us out! We had made a deal! That snake!

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on- I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy."

And with that, they were gone. We continued up the last staircase and threw off the cloak.

"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!" I said as I did a little dance. It was only what he deserved for snitching on us like that.

"Don't," said Harry. I simply glared at him. I barely noticed when Charlie's friends came to take Norbert since I was still so happy about Malfoy's detention.

Once we reached the bottom of the staircase, I had been going down it in a sort of daze anyway, we realized our real mistake.

"Well, well, well, we  _are_  in trouble."

We had left the invisibility cloak on top of the Astronomy Tower.


	6. Detention

A bit later, after I had stopped voicing my opinions in class, we got our detention notices. I had stopped drawing attention to myself because, well, we lost 150 points from Gryffindor the night that we were out with Norbert. We were in the last place for the House Cup now; everybody hated us. People especially hated Harry, since they didn't know who any of the rest of us were.

Anyway, the detention notes came at breakfast about a week before exams.

_'Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight._

_Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

_Professor M. McGonagall_

Of course, we deserved the detention that we had gotten. We shouldn't have been out that late anyway. I didn't feel so happy about Malfoy having detention anymore.

That night, at eleven o'clock precisely, Harry, Neville and I said goodbye to Ron and went to serve our detentions.

"Follow me," said Filch as he lit a lamp and led us outside. Malfoy was also here. Why we had to serve detention at the same time as him was unclear. "I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh? Oh yes . . . hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me. . . . It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out . . . hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed. . . . Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you in you do."

He marched us across the dark grounds. I'm pretty sure that Neville was crying as well. I could see Hagrid's hut from our current position. The lights were on.

"Is that you, Filch?" came a distant shout. "Hurry up, I want ter get started." At least we'd be working with Hagrid. I knew I could trust him to not hang us up by our wrists.

"I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf?" said Filch. Harry must've had the same thoughts as me. "Well, think again, boy- it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece." Neville moaned and Malfoy simply stopped moving. Neither Harry nor I stopped walking or made any noises at all, though I did roll my eyes and give Malfoy a little kick in the calf to get him moving again.

He glared at me. "The forest? We can't go in there at night- there's all sorts of things in there- werewolves, I heard."

"That's your problem, isn't it? Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

That's when Hagrid emerged from the dark, his crossbow in his hand and Fang at his heels. "Abou' time. I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?" I gave him a small nod of assurance that we were indeed okay.

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid." Filch spoke coldly, contempt obvious in his tone. "They're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it? Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn for what's left of them." Filch chuckled as he walked off toward the dark castle.

"I'm not going in that forest," said Malfoy, a hint of panic in his voice. I couldn't help but feel a bit bad for him. He seemed genuinely scared.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd-"

"-tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," growled Hagrid. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!"

Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. " So me, Harry, an' Hermione'll go one way an' Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now -- that's it -- an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh -- so, be careful -- let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it we reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Hagrid, and I took the left path while Malfoy, Neville, and Fang took the right.

We walked in silence, our eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

We walked past a mossy tree stump. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

"You all right, Hermione?" Hagrid whispered. "Don' worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter -- GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

Hagrid grabbed us and hoisted us off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of us listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

"I knew it, " he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."

"A werewolf?" Harry suggested. "That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Hagrid grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."

We walked more slowly, listening for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself -- I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came some strange creature. To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. My jaw dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?"

He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter an' Hermione Granger, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur."

"We'd noticed," I said softly.

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"Erm-" began Harry, before I cut him off.

"A bit."

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He looked at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt -- you seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared upward, then sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright."

"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home, said Hagrid. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets."

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied and wilder-looking than Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"

"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured -- would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward. "Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.

"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."

We followed him out of the clearing, and I tried to look over my shoulder at the centaurs for as long as possible before the trees blocked my view.

"Never," said Hagrid irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" I asked.

"Oh, a fair few... Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs... they know things... jus' don' let on much."

"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Harry.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns -- never heard anythin' like it before."

We kept walking through the dense forest. I saw some red sparks in the sky and immediately grabbed Hagrid's arm. "Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"

I heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other. Harry looked bery scared, and I felt very scared.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" I whispered.

"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Neville... it's our fault he's here in the first place." I frowned slightly at Harry's dislike of Malfoy, though I wasn't sure why. I hated him just as much, if not more, yet I still didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

The minutes dragged by. I listened harder than usual. At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Neville, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups- Neville, you stay with me an' Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot."

As Harry and Malfoy walked off, I rubbed Neville's back in an attempt to comfort him. The poor thing was trembling.

Soon enough, Malfoy and Fang came running back, obviously spooked.

"Harry! Harry, are you all right?" I asked as I ran toward him. He sat on a centaur's back, but not Ronan or Bane.

"I'm fine," said Harry. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," murmered the centaur as Hagrid went to find and inspect the unicorn. "You are safe now." I watched as Harry slid off his back. "Good luck, Harry Potter. The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."


	7. Confessions and Study Sessions

The next morning, on my way to the library to get some studying done before breakfast, I found myself suddenly pulled into an empty classroom.

"Don't make a sound, Granger," a voice whispered menacingly into my ear. "Or we'll get detention again." Of course, I recognized the voice right away. "By the way, you look quite good today."

I frowned at that. All I ever did to get ready was brush my hair quickly. It would actually be fairly tame until I brushed it. I probably should've stopped brushing it so much, but old habits die hard, I suppose.

"What do you want from me, Malfoy?" I sighed heavily as I pulled myself from his grasp. His grip tightened for a moment, but my scowl must have made him let go.

"Final exams are coming up, yes?"

"Oh, my goodness! That is an amazing observation you've made there, Malfoy."

"Hermione, please." He paused, his eyes seemingly avoiding me at all costs. "I was wondering if, well, if you'd mind helping me out."

"Excuse me?" I placed my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes at him.

"I'd like your help studying for final exams."

My jaw dropped. I simply stood there with my mouth hanging open. I don't know how much time passed. Draco rolled his eyes at least three times before he reached forward and lifted my chin with his hand. "Don't catch flies, Hermione. Just give me an answer."

"W-what subject?" I finally stuttered out. "Just so that I can prepare for helping you out. Or so I can let you know that I can't help you. You know, just in case it's a subject I'm not any good at."

"Shut it, Hermione. You're plenty smart, and I'm sure you excel at all of your subjects." He smirked and threw his head back as if he were tossing his hair from his eyes, but his hair was all slicked back neatly. His words gave me a strange feeling in my stomach, one that I hadn't felt since primary school.

In my primary school, there was a boy three years older than me who would often run messages from the main office to any students needed. Jake Edwards, with his light brown hair and hazel eyes, was much more mature than the boys in my year. Every time that he came into one of my classes, I got a fluttery feeling in my stomach. He was my first, and only, crush. At least that I know of. And now I was getting the same feeling around Draco Malfoy, of all people. It couldn't be someone in Gryffindor, or even a smart Ravenclaw or a kind Hufflepuff. It had to be a slimy snake from Slytherin.

Naturally, I imagined that feeling being pushed out of my body through my feet and dissolving into the floors of Hogwarts. It didn't work.

"So, I was thinking that nightly would be good. The exams are coming up quickly."

I realized that he had been talking the whole time that I was thinking. "Oh, um, sure. That works for me. In the library, yes?" He nodded in response.

"Teach me well, Hermione. I have to do at least as well as you. I don't want a repeat of last term's marks."

"What was wrong with last term's marks?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Granger," he quipped, avoiding my gaze as he spoke. I could tell that he was putting up an emotional wall. It was very obvious since he suddenly used my surname instead of my given one. He usually called me by my given name, in spite of my requests for him to stop doing so.

I sighed. "Draco," I began. It was obvious that whatever this was bothered him. Being the kind person that I am, I was simply offering to help him out and give him someone to talk to. His eyes widened at my use of his given name. I hadn't used it before. "You can tell me, you know. I won't let it leave this room."

"My father was f- uh, displeased - with my class rank."

"Your rank couldn't have been that bad. I know that I was first, so you wouldn't be the best but that's fine, right?"

"Well, you see, I was ranked second."

"Draco, that's amazing!" I smiled widely at him. What about that could possibly make his father angry?

"But you're a  _Muggleborn_ , Hermione. As a pureblood, I am, in his words, 'more deserving of any magical talent.' I tried my hardest, but you're just  _better_!"

"It's not your fault that he is prejudiced. So what you don't make him proud every day? That's fine. I'm sure your mother was happy, and I'd tell you that I'm proud of you any day." Darn it! Why did I say that? It made me sound like I was obsessed with him or something.

A blush spread across his pale cheeks. He looked down, a shy smile gracing his lips, and gathered his composure before matching my dull brown eyes with the piercing grey of his own. "Hermione, he beat me because of it."

I took in a sharp breath. I had never heard of anyone being abused by his or her parents! Sure, I grew up fairly sheltered, but this was a whole new level of the world that I hadn't experienced before. Was it normal in wizarding families? It couldn't be! Ronald's brothers, Fred and George, got into plenty of trouble and I never heard about any of them getting beaten.

"I'm  _supposed_ to be better than you. I'm his only son and sole heir, yet I can't even do this one small thing. He's right to be angry! I need to try harder, and that's why I'm asking you for help this term."

Deciding to drop the subject, I responded, "All you can do is try your best. If it's good enough for you, then who cares what your stupid father thinks!" He gave a small chuckle at that, but it seemed very forced. I made a mental note to not say an ill word about his father until further notice.

"Draco," I began, taking a deep breath. "I'm glad that you decided to tell me this. You needed to get it off your chest." I took a step forward and put my hand on his shoulder. "I promise you that I won't tell anyone about this. I barely have anyone to tell in the first place." Smiling at him, I fought the urge to give him a comforting hug. He looked so vulnerable at that moment. He had just told me something that he had probably never told anyone before, so he'd naturally feel a bit emotionally exposed. "You don't have anything to worry about. I'll help you study, and don't forget that I'm always here for when you just need to talk."

I received a nod and a smile in response. Draco Malfoy, git extraordinaire, actually smiled at me! It was a miracle. On the downside, it also brought the fluttering feeling in my stomach back twice as strong as it was before.

What happened next seemed to be a mutual decision. If you'd asked, I wouldn't have been able to tell you who actually moved in first. I would've told you that he did since I didn't want to seem like I went around doing this kind of thing all the time.

He was surprisingly warm for a Slytherin, not that I had any prior experience to draw from. Seeming to cling to me as if his life depended on it, he squeezed me tightly. I closed my eyes as comfort flowed through my entire being. Suddenly, my entire front felt a rush of air and my arms were empty. When I opened my eyes just milliseconds after that, he was gone.

I had just hugged Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 

After writing out a quick letter to my parents (which I, of course, didn't send because my parents had no way of receiving Owl Post without raising suspicion), I headed to the library to meet with Draco.  _Hmm_ , I wondered.  _When did I start thinking of him as Draco instead of Malfoy?_

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I turned the corner into the library. I gave Madam Pince a slight smile and a nod as a greeting, as I always did. Then I searched for the shock of platinum blonde hair that I knew would be him. As soon as I saw it, I made my way over to him.

"Nice of you to show, Granger," he sneered at me, a juxtaposed smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, please, Malfoy. I'm here right on time." I rolled my eyes at his childishness. Then I remembered that he was an eleven-year-old boy and one couldn't expect much from those creatures anyway.

"You look nice today." He looked me dead in the eye as he said this, his face losing all humor.

"You've already  _told_  me that today, Malfoy."

"I know, but I thought you ought to hear it again," he mumbled, a blush spreading across his cheeks. I sighed even though his words gave me a warm feeling in my stomach and I could feel my entire face turning bright red.

Quickly, I sat down and began to pull out books for us to study. The rest of the session went by uneventfully, save for one small event.

I was grabbing the next book to throw onto the table when I accidentally knocked one of the previous ones down to the floor. Of course, I reached to pick it up. But it seemed that Draco had the same idea. Our fingers brushed lightly, causing me to pull back quickly. I brought up the new book and he replaced the old one. Neither of us mentioned it.

The rest of the week, I couldn't get that incident out of my mind. I had pulled away so quickly. I didn't know what came over me. One moment I was simply reaching for a book, and the next I was cowering back as if a beast were about to attack me. What danger could I possibly have sensed?

I finally realized that I hadn't pulled back because of fear. When I focused back on the memory, pulling it up into my mind and replaying it over again, I flinched back into my own bed.  _My own bed_ , for Merlin's sake. Draco wasn't even there to send that same spark of electricity coursing through my veins. I hadn't felt anything of the sort when we had hugged earlier the same day, but suddenly a small brush of the hands was enough to set my heart racing.

There was absolutely  _no way_  that I could've had a crush on Draco Malfoy. He wasn't kind to me. He didn't care for me. We weren't even in the same house! No matter what my mother tried to tell me over the holidays, I still hated him. I didn't even like him as a person, let alone have, I shuddered,  _romantic_  feelings for him. Besides, even if I did they would never be reciprocated.

Wearing a smug smile on my face and feeling satisfied with my logical problem solving, I let myself drift off into sleep.


	8. Friendship and Bravery

Shortly after our detention, Harry and I had decided that he was safe as long as Dumbledore was around.

So then it was on to final exams. Naturally, I worked my very hardest on every single exam, from Transfiguration to Herbology. I had nervously tapped my foot as I waited for Professor Flitwick to call me in for my shot at the exam (which was simply making a pineapple tap-dance, so I didn't have much to worry about). Transfiguration was also fairly easy. All we had to do was turn a mouse into a snuff box. I didn't get many extra points for the appearance of my box, but it was exactly like the one my grandfather had used. In Potions with Professor Snape, during which I had to deal with Malfoy and his posse, we were instructed to brew a Forgetfulness Potion from memory. A bit humorous, if you ask me, but it's hard to find humor where there is none. History of Magic, though, was the easiest by far. We simply had to answer questions about the Self-Stirring Cauldron (invented by Gaspard Shingleton--born in 1959--thank you very much).

* * *

 

I swear I was surrounded by idiots. Hagrid went and got himself pissed before trading all information about Fluffy with some  _stranger_ in exchange for a dragon egg. Harry, of course, was similarly aghast. We ran to tell Professor Dumbledore at once.

After an unfortunate run-in with Professors Snape and McGonagall, in which we learned that Dumbledore had been called away to the Ministry, we plotted to catch Snape in the act of stealing the Sorcerer's Stone. It was decided that  _I_ would wait for him outside the staff room under the guise of waiting for Professor Flitwick.

So there I stood, outside the door, hoping that I wouldn't have to face Professor Snape. Unfortunately for me, he emerged just a few minutes later.

"Miss Granger," he drawled, "what are you doing out here?"

"Oh, I'm waiting for Professor Flitwick. I want to talk to him about my exam." I could feel sweat condensing on my forehead. Lying to teachers just didn't seem right.

"I'll get him for you," he said, turning back into the staffroom.

I had barely moved from my post outside the door when Snape came into the hall again, this time with Professor Flitwick by his side.

"Oh, hello Professor Flitwick. I was just wanting to talk to you about the exam." I inwardly cringed at how superficial I sounded.

And thus began a discussion about my exam score. The good news: I got a hundred and twelve percent. The bad news: Professor Snape got away.

* * *

 

I trudged toward the common room, thoroughly discouraged.

"Psst, Granger," a voice called from somewhere around me. I looked in all directions; the corridors were fairly large and sound traveled impeccably. Suddenly I felt a tug on my arm.

I found myself in a small alcove, mouth covered, face to face with Draco Malfoy. "Would you quit pulling me out of the halls," I raged, ripping his hand from my face.

"Sorry, Granger. Just had a few questions for you," he drawled, seemingly uninterested. I could see a spark of curiosity in his eyes that said otherwise.

"Fine," I sighed, "go ahead and ask your questions." Mentally, I rolled my eyes. Or maybe I actually did roll them.

"I heard that McGonagall caught your two boyfriends sneaking around by the third-floor corridor." A vicious smirk spread across his face; he obviously wanted to get a reaction out of me – as if I'd ever give him  _that_  satisfaction.

"Oh, really?" I asked, studying my nails in feigned indifference. "From whom did you receive this precious information?" I figured I might as well throw some sarcasm in there as well; Merlin knows I couldn't get through I conversation with him without its charms.

"I saw it myself, thank you very much!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Malfoy! Were you spying on them  _again_?

"No, I was not!" he spluttered, a blush slowly creeping up to his cheeks. "I heard their voices and thought I'd see what they were sneaking around for."

"Alright, whatever you say." I turned to leave, but he caught my arm again and stopped me. I sighed. "I already know where they've been this afternoon, Malfoy. They're my  _friends_ , so they tell me what they're doing." With that, I turned and stalked away.

* * *

 

"Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!" I knew Ron was just pulling my leg, but it was really not the time.

"All right," Ron said as he carefully opened the trapdoor.

"What can you see?" I asked.

"Nothing – just black – there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."

And so Harry went down first. I took over with the flute to keep Fluffy asleep, and as soon as Ron had disappeared through the trapdoor, I followed him in and closed the door behind me.

“We must be miles under the school,” I hypothesized.

“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron. I was up and out of ‘that plant thing’ as quickly as possible.

“ _Lucky_!” I shrieked. “Look at you both!”

That’s when they finally noticed the Devil’s Snare.

“Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare…what did Professor Sprout say? – it likes the dark and the damp –”

“So light a fire!” suggested Harry.

“Yes – of course – but there’s no wood!” What would I do without wood? I couldn’t just _make_ a fire appear out of nowhere.

“HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” Ron yelled loudly. “ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?”

“Oh, right!” I pulled out my wand and quickly shot some bluebell flames at the plant.

After that incident, we reached a room filled with birds. Harry quickly discovered that they were, in fact, keys (with wings, of course). So the boys headed toward the broomsticks that were already in the room. I hesitated. _You can do this Hermione_ , I told myself in my head. _It’s just a broomstick. You can’t even go_ that _high, you’re underground._ I looked up and saw that the ceiling was definitely visible. On shaking legs, I walked over to where the boys had already kicked off from and followed suit.

Honestly, the rest of the flying went by in a blur. I’d rather forget that trauma, thank you very much.

Next was a room with a giant chessboard. Ron, of course, was able to play us through that. But not without some sacrifices.

“We’re nearly there,” mumbled Ron. “Let me think – let me think… Yes…it’s the only way…I’ve got to be taken.”

“NO!” Harry and I shouted simultaneously.

“That’s chess! You’ve got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she’ll take me – that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!”

“But –”

“Do you want to stop Snape or not?”

“Ron –”

“Look, if you don’t hurry up, he’ll already have the Stone!” I watched as Harry nodded reluctantly. “Ready? Here I go – now, don’t hang around once you’ve won.” Then he went forward and was hit across the head by the white queen. I screamed as he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Harry moved to the necessary spot and the white king promptly threw his crown at Harry’s feet.

“What if he’s –?”

“He’ll be alright,” Harry responded as we headed through the next passageway. “What do you reckon’s next?”

I took a moment to think. All the teachers, and Hagrid, had put their own obstacles in the way. Of course, Fluffy was Hagrid’s contribution. “We’ve had Sprout’s, that was the Devil’s Snare; Flitwick must’ve put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell’s spell, and Snape’s…”

As we went through the next door, we smelled, and then saw, a large troll that was, thankfully, knocked out already.

“I’m glad we didn’t have to fight that one,” said Harry. I nodded silently, not wanting to uncover my nose and mouth and risk smelling the unholy stench of the troll.

On to the next room, in which we saw a table with several bottles on it.

“Snape’s,” Harry said, sounding disappointed. “What do we have to do?”

We walked in and were immediately stopped from moving backward by a purple fire that sprang up over the threshold. At the same time, a black fire lit in the doorway that led onward.

I studied the bottles on the table. On the left was a short clear bottle, followed by a taller red one. Next was a very small blue bottle and after that was an even taller yellowish bottle. Then came a small green bottle, which stood next to a very tall black bottle, and last was a short purple bottle.

I suddenly spotted a roll of parchment next to the bottles. “Look!” I said, grabbing the scroll. I felt Harry leaning over my shoulder as we read it:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

I sighed happily. “ _Brilliant_ ,” I said brightly. “This isn’t magic – its logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here forever.”

“But so will we, won’t we?” asked Harry. I nearly scoffed.

“Of course not. Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple.”

“But how do we know which to drink?”

“Give me a minute,” I said, focusing on the bottles to figure out the puzzle. “Let’s see…” I muttered to myself. “The black one is the same as the red one, plus I know that the black one can’t be poison, so those two must be nettle wine.” I set the two bottles aside in my mind. “Okay…if there’s always poison to the left of wine, then the first one must be poison, as well as the green one.” That only left three more bottles to figure out. “The center bottle looks suspiciously similar to the first poison, so – no I’m getting ahead of myself. _Logic_ , Hermione. Think it through.” I took another long look at the three remaining bottles. “The purple one would send us back, since it is different from the one on the left and I know it won’t move us forward.” The purple bottle was then put aside in my mind, but in a separate area from the rest since we might still need it. “Okay, Hermione, only two left.” _After I find the one to take us forward_ , I told myself mentally, _we can finally stop Snape_. “The smallest one absolutely cannot be poison, since that’s what it tells us, so the center one has to be the last poison.” I clapped my hands in triumph. “Got it,” I said at a normal volume. “The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – toward the Stone.”

Harry took a look at the smallest bottle and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “There’s only enough for one of us. That’s hardly one swallow.” I met his eyes worriedly. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?”

My arm immediately pointed at the purple bottle on the right end of the line.

“You drink that,” Harry told me. I immediately began to protest. “No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him, really.”

“But Harry – what if You-Know-Who’s with him?” I asked as tears formed in my eyes.

“Well – I was lucky once, wasn’t I? I might get lucky again.”

I couldn’t hold myself back anymore and I ran to Harry, hugging him as tightly as possible. The thought enters my mind that the last person I hugged was Draco, but I pushed it out just as quickly as it entered.

“ _Hermione_!” Harry exclaimed, surprised.

“Harry – you’re a great wizard, you know,” I said as I let him go.

“I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, a blush apparent on his cheeks.

“Me!” I said, lightly chuckling. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh Harry – be _careful_!”

“You drink first,” Harry told me. “You are sure which is which, aren’t you?”

“Positive,” I said, immediately taking a long drink from the purple bottle that I thought we’d probably need. Ice seemed to be poured through my body as soon as I had sipped the potion.

“It’s not poison?” Harry asked, worried.

“No – but it’s like ice.”

“Quick, go, before it wears off.”

“Good luck – take care – ”

“GO!”

I took a deep breath to steel myself before turning and walking straight through the fire. Next I found myself in the room with the unconscious troll and, to my amazement, perfectly unharmed. After assessing my state, I took off at a run to get to Ron. The troll did not wake when I passed it, and I made it into the chess room quickly. Ron, unfortunately, was still out cold.

“Ron, wake up!” I whispered to him as I lightly slapped his cheek. “We have to go send an owl to Dumbledore!”

* * *

 

“Hermione,” I cringed as I heard Draco’s sneering voice approach me. “Were you with Potter the other night?”

A sigh escaped me as I turned from my spot facing the beloved Hogwarts bookshelves and I soon found myself face-to-face with the pompous Draco Malfoy.

“Does it really _matter_ whether or not I was?” I questioned testily.

“ _Yes_ ,” he responded, sounding every bit as volatile as I felt. “Potter was _attacked_ , for Merlin’s sake. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay.” His voice lowered to a whisper and a blush began crawling up his neck as he spoke the last sentence.

“Malfoy,” I began, very eager to kick him while he was down, “if I had been harmed in any way, would I be here in the library right now?”

He rolled his eyes, and I felt the pain of failure from his unaffectedness. “Just tell me what happened. What put Potter in the hospital wing?”

“Seeing as Harry has been unconscious for the past two days, I can honestly tell you that I have no idea. He was perfectly fine when I left him to walk through the flames, and –”

“ _Flames_?! Merlin, Hermione, what were the two of you up to?”

I sighed in defeat. “If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll tell you what I know.” He nodded eagerly and I took a deep breath before beginning the tale.

I started from when we first saw Fluffy, and my skillful notice of the trapdoor. Moving through the months and describing all of our research and findings, I watched as his eyes grew wider with every word that left my mouth.

A few minutes later, and nearly out of breath, I panted for a few seconds before adding, “Harry was really very brave.”

Apparently, Draco didn’t like my praise toward Harry. He bristled at the mention of one currently unconscious Harry Potter.

“Yes, well,” he began, a sneer forming on his pointed features, “why don’t you go and check on your _precious Potter_ , then.”

And then he quickly spun and walked away.

* * *

 

“ _Harry_!” I screamed as Madam Pomfrey finally let us in to see him. I began to raise my arms to hug him before realizing that he was probably still sore from whatever it was that put him in the hospital wing. “Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to – Dumbledore was so worried –”

“The whole school’s talking about it,” Ron interrupted, which was probably a good thing considering I was at the point of babbling incoherently. “What _really_ happened?”

So Harry then regaled his tale of all that occurred following my departure through the purple flames. Ron and I both gasped at each reveal, and I was honestly startled enough to scream when Harry told us what was underneath Quirrell’s turban.

“Well, I got back all right,” I said upon Harry’s prompting. “I brought Ron round – that took a while – and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall – he already knew – he just said, ‘Harry’s gone after him, hasn’t he?’ and hurtled off to the third floor.”

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” asked Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?”

“ _Well_ ,” I said, feeling anger begin flowing through my veins, “if he did – I mean to say – that’s terrible – you could have been killed.”

“No, it isn’t,” retorted Harry. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. Its almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could…”

“Yeah, Dumbledore’s off his rocker, all right,” said Ron. “Listen, you’ve got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course – you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrolled by Ravenclaw without you – but the food’ll be good.”

“You’ve had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT,” scolded Madam Pomfrey.

* * *

 

“You heard what Harry said, Ronald! Dumbledore is perfectly sane,” I said with conviction, continuing the argument that we’d been having since leaving the hospital wing the day before.

“I’m telling you, ‘Mione, that man is completely barmy! Even if he was able to get to Harry on time –”

“—which he _did_ –” I interjected.

“—he still just sat by with the information that all three of us were going to be in danger!”

I crossed my arms over my chest and turned away from him. He was so stubborn, honestly. Couldn’t he just accept that Dumbledore was a wise man who had seen more of this world than either of us. Fortunately, I didn’t get much time to stew in my anger because Harry sat between Ron and I at that time. I gave him a small, one-armed hug just as Dumbledore arrived and began addressing the student body.

“Another year gone!” he said very happily, which was strange considering that Harry had been attacked by Voldemort less than a week before. “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were…you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…

“Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.”

The Slytherins cheered so loudly and so suddenly that I quickly lifted my hands to cover my ears. I looked toward the table to see Draco banging his goblet on the table arrogantly. His head turned slightly and made eye contact with me, giving me a sickening smirk from across the Great Hall. Naturally, I sent him my fiercest glare in return and shifted my attention back to Dumbledore.

“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account.”

Everyone stopped moving. I sucked in a breath and held it in as he stood silently in front of the Great Hall.

“Ahem,” began Dumbledore. “I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…

“First – to Mr. Ronald Weasley…”

I looked back over at Ron in time to see him turn from his usual reddish-tone to nearly purple. Dumbledore, who had an affinity for well-timed pauses, opened his mouth and continued his sentence with, “…for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

All the Gryffindors cheered happily, and many clapped as well.

“My brother, you know!” said Percy Weasley to the other prefects. “My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall’s giant chess set!”

“Second—” came the booming voice of Dumbledore, coaxing the Great Hall into silence again, “—to Miss Hermione Granger…for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

I shrieked in surprise and immediately buried my face, which I’m sure was bright red, in my arms. It felt so amazing to be honored, though. I smiled into my arms as I heard the crowd’s ruckus continue around me. I lifted my head to hear what else Professor Dumbledore had to say and found Draco nearly beaming at me from across the hall. Giving him a confused glance, I turned to face the front of the Great Hall once more.

“Third—to Mr. Harry Potter…for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.”

Nearly everyone at the Gryffindor table began cheering to the point of hoarseness, celebrating the rapid addition of one hundred and sixty points to our House.

“There are all kinds of courage,” Dumbledore said just as I was trying to recall if _Hogwarts, A History_ said anything about how the house cup was decided in the even of a tie. “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom.”

Cringing as I remembered my use of the Body-Bind Curse on him, I turned to give Neville, who was currently white, presumably, with shock, an apologetic look and mouthed, “sorry.” Just as I did so, Neville began to be smothered by the tons of people hugging him. The Great Hall sounded like someone had set off a bomb, since nearly everyone, except for the Slytherins, had begun to cheer at the top of their lungs upon the announcement of the points that brought Gryffindor into the lead for the house cup.

“Which means,” called Dumbledore, somehow getting his voice to penetrate the din within the Great Hall, “we need a little change of decoration.”

He clapped his hands and smiled as the green and silver hangings became scarlet and gold, fully replacing Slytherin as the winner of the house cup.

* * *

 

Exam results were finally released, and I went to an empty spot by the lake to look at mine. I was greatly relieved to discover that I had gotten ‘Outstanding’ for all seven subjects. The soft crunch of footsteps on the grass didn’t make its way into my senses until whoever it was was already too close for me to do anything about them. So, I assumed it was Harry, or possibly Ron, and neglected to turn my head as I asked, “how did your exam results turn out, Harry?”

There was a chuckle. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but ‘Harry’ has never been one of them.”

I whipped my head around to see Draco Malfoy standing behind me. “ _Christ_ , Malfoy,” I exclaimed, my hand pressed over my rapidly beating heart. His voice had startled me. “Must you sneak up on me like that?”

“In response to your questions: First, I received ‘Outstanding’ on all of my exams, save for Defense Against the Dark Arts, in which I got an ‘Exceeds Expectations,’ which is pretty good considering that airhead Lockhart won’t notice someone who doesn’t spend every second of every day stroking his ego; second, it isn’t my fault that you don’t pay enough attention to your surroundings to notice when people are near you; third, what is ‘Christ’?”

“It’s a Muggle thing, don’t worry about it,” I said, feeling exasperated. “Alright, Malfoy, _why_ are you here?”

“I’m just taking a nice walk around the grounds, Granger. Why do you ask?” he smirked, knowing as well as I that he was full of it.

“Please, Malfoy. I’m not thick enough to fall for anything that _stupid_. You don’t go anywhere without your loyal minions, Draco, everybody knows that.”

“I simply got rid of them for a minute. Its no big deal, ‘Mione.”

I crossed my arms sternly, fixing my most menacing glare on him. “ _Don’t_ call me that!” I exclaimed, stomping my foot on the ground.

“Why ever not, _‘Mione_?” drawled Draco, raising a single eyebrow.

“Because,” I huffed testily, “that’s _not_ my name. It’s _Her_ mione.”

“Then why do I hear your ginger boyfriend calling you that all the time?”

“Ronald is _not_ my boyfriend. He is stubborn, and simply lazy. He prefers to shorten it from three syllables to two. I tell him not to call me that nearly every time he does, yet he still continues to do so.”

“Oh, well,” he mumbled, his smirk falling and his eyes looking down. “I can’t feel very sorry for you, since that weasel is an inarticulate bumble who wouldn’t know manners if they hit him in the face.”

“Okay, yeah, if you’re done insulting my friend, then I have better places to be. Have fun pulling your minions’ attentions from whatever shiny object you distracted them with.” I walked back to the castle, not listening to a single word that he said as I rapidly moved away from him.

* * *

 

“You must come and stay this summer,” Ron said excitedly, “both of you – I’ll send you an owl.”

“Thanks, I’ll need something to look forward to,” said Harry.

“Make sure you send mine at night, Ron,” I warned him. “I don’t need my neighbors getting suspicious.”

I chuckled as Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister, pointed at Harry as we passed through the barrier. Mrs. Weasley came to greet us and we made small talk for a few minutes until a purple-faced man furiously stomped his way over.

“Ready, are you?” the man asked Harry, looking surprisingly angry for someone who was seeing his nephew for the first time in months. How anyone could be so unpleasant escaped me. Harry’s uncle was even ahead of Draco and Ron for the Most Infuriating Person award.

“See you over the summer, then,” Harry told Ron and me.

“Hope you have – er – a good holiday,” I said uncertainly. Whether or not Harry would be _safe_ with his uncle was definitely something that worried me greatly.

“Oh, I will,” said Harry, smiling. “ _They_ don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer…”

Immediately after Harry left, I caught sight of my parents. “Goodbye, Ron!” I said before heading over to my mum and dad.

“Hermione, dear,” my dad exclaimed. “How was it at that school of yours?”

“It was good, dad,” I said, laughing at his way of referring to Hogwarts as ‘that school of mine.’

“Let’s go, then,” said my mum happily. “I’ve got supper ready on the stove.”

I nodded and followed my mum, my dad’s arm around my shoulder. On the way, I caught sight of vibrant blonde hair. Turning to look, I saw a tall man with long, blonde hair. Through the crowd I could see that his hand was on Draco’s shoulder.

Draco’s eyes seemed to be searching the crowd, before stopping on me. ‘Have a nice holiday, Draco,’ I mouthed at him, shooting him a smile as my dad moved me toward the exit of King’s Cross Station and back out into the Muggle world that I knew so well.


	9. Celebrity Crushes

**Dear _Miss Granger_ ,**

**We are pleased to welcome you back for another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.**

**All students are required to report to King’s Cross Platform 9 ¾ and board the Hogwarts Express no later than 11 am on the first of September.**

**Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**_Prof. McGonagall_ **

**Professor McGonagall**

 

I looked excitedly at the next piece of parchment in the yellowed envelope.

 

SECOND YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:

 _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_  by Miranda Goshawk

 _Break with a Banshee_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Gadding with Ghouls_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Holidays with Hags_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Travels with Trolls_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Voyages with Vampires_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Wandering with Werewolves_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Year with the Yeti_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 

A squeal escaped me as I read through the list of required books.  _Of course_ , I knew all about Gilderoy Lockhart. I had first discovered his books in the library partway through my first year at Hogwarts. His handsome image on the front cover drew me in, and his dreamily heroic words persuaded me to read all of his books that were available to me via the Hogwarts library. All of his tales had me in awe of how one man could do so much. Even after doing so for months, simply looking at his portrait gave me a nervous feeling in my stomach. One could possibly call me “pathetic”, but I’d have wagered that at least 75% of the witch population felt the same as I did.

Shaking my head to clear the borderline-obsessive thoughts from my head, I steered my train of thought toward my summer activities. As usual, I spent a lot of the break from school reading. Unlike nearly every other child in England, I did  _not_  get a tan of any kind. Which was very fine with me, thank you very much. I’d much prefer to keep my skin free of unnecessary freckles and cancers.

In the way of appearances, I hadn’t changed much. I had grown about six centimeters from the beginning of the last school year. My hair, which had been just past my shoulders at the beginning of June, now covered the top part of my back, ending nearly halfway down my shoulder blades. I kept my fringe, and it hadn’t had much time to grow out from my mid-June haircut. Usually, it grew out to the point of me simply parting it and brushing it out of my face in time for my mid-December haircut. Ever since I was little, my mum had trimmed my hair once every six months. My face, while still full of baby fat and freckles, had lengthened a bit. Not enough to make me look  _good_ , mind you. With front teeth that stuck out like a mouse’s, or a beaver’s, I continued to beg my parents for braces, or  _any_  dental work, but they refused to budge on the issue.

There was a loud  _bang_  on the kitchen window, and I immediately recognized the noise as Errol, Ron’s elderly owl. I rushed to open the back door and let him in before my neighbors got nosy and suspicious, as one could often expect in the suburbs, and the greyish lump showed no resistance when I plucked it off the ground and carried it to the kitchen table. He had a letter attached to him, which I quickly read and responded to as quickly as possible.

_Dear Ron, and Harry if you’re there,_

_I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn’t do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I’ve been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, because I think another delivery might finish your one off._

_I’m very busy with schoolwork, of course, and we’re going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don’t we meet in Diagon Alley?_

_Let me know what’s happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione._

I gave Errol the letter and sent him off once more before rushing up to my room to make sure I had  _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_  memorized by the time I purchased  _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_.

 

“Harry! Harry! Over here!” I shouted as Hagrid and a disheveled Harry came into view. I immediately left my dad’s side and ran down the Gringotts steps. “What happened to your glasses? Hello, Hagrid – Oh, it’s  _wonderful_  to see you two again – are you coming into Gringotts, Harry?”

“As soon as I’ve found the Weasleys,” said Harry, sounding disappointed.

Just as I opened my mouth to point out that the Weasleys couldn’t be far behind him, Hagrid smiled and said, “Yeh won’t have long ter wait.”

“Harry,” panted Mr. Weasley as he, Percy, George, Fred, and Ron ran up the street. “We  _hoped_  you’d only gone one grate too far…” Wiping the sweat from his head, he straightened up a bit. “Molly’s frantic – she’s coming now –”

“Where’d you come out?” asked Ron. While all this was going down, I stood silently and tried to piece together what exactly had happened. From all the clues I was receiving, I could deduce that the Weasley’s had traveled by Floo, which accounted for Harry’s less-than-presentable appearance, and Harry had traveled to a different place than the rest of them.

“Knockturn Alley,” answered Hagrid.

“ _Excellent_!” said both George and Fred. What, exactly, was ‘excellent’ was a mystery to me. From what I knew, Knockturn Alley was an evil version of Diagon Alley.

“We’ve never been allowed in,” Ron said with a bit of jealously staining his tone of voice.

“I should ruddy well think now,” Hagrid said in a low growl.

“Oh, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley as she and Ginny came into view. “Oh, my dear – you could have been anywhere –” She then pulled out a large brush and began to gently swat Harry with it, apparently removing soot from his clothing. At the same time, Mr. Weasley took Harry’s glasses and fixed them up from their previously broken state.

“Well, gotta be off,” said Hagrid as he pulled his hand from Mrs. Weasley’s death grip. “See yer at Hogwarts!”

As Harry, Ron, and I climbed the steps to Gringotts, Harry spoke up. “Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?” he asked somewhat mischievously. “Malfoy and his father.”

“Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?” asked Mr. Weasley from behind us, seemingly eavesdropping.

“No, he was selling –” answered Harry, his voice full of confusion.

“So he’s worried,” interrupted Mr. Weasley, sounding satisfied. “Oh, I’d love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…”

“You be careful, Arthur,” scolded Mrs. Weasley. “That family’s trouble. Don’t go biting off more than you can chew –”

“So you don’t think I’m a match for Lucius Malfoy?” asked Mr. Weasley angrily. I laughed softly at the small spat that they were in, but my mind was taken off of it as I saw my parents standing by the counter nervously.

“Mum, Dad,” I began, sensing Mr. Weasley’s extreme fascination with my parents. “This is Mr. Weasley, Ron’s dad.”

“But you’re  _Muggles_! We must have a drink!” said Mr. Weasley enthusiastically. “What’s that you’ve got there? Oh, you’re changing Muggle money. Molly, look!” he exclaimed, pointing at the pound notes in my father’s hand.

I rolled my eyes with a chuckle and turned to Ron and Harry.

“Meet you back here,” said Ron as he, his family, and Harry were escorted to their vaults by a Gringotts goblin.

After enduring many, many questions about the inner-workings of Muggle society, my parents agreed to go with Mr. Weasley to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. So, Ron, Harry, and I set off along the cobbled street that wound through Diagon Alley.

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

_MAGICAL ME_

today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.

“We can actually meet him!” I squealed, my own voice sounding foreign to me. “I mean, he’s written almost the whole booklist!”

I led Harry and Ron as we squeezed past the many women and into the bookstore. The long line wound to the back of the store, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing books. I quickly grabbed a copy of  _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_  and sneaked to my parents and the Weasley’s were all standing.

“Oh, there you are, good,” said Mrs. Weasley, sounding nearly as flustered as I felt. “We’ll be able to see him in a minute…”

I could feel myself buzzing with excitement when suddenly he came into view.

What first caught my eye was his golden hair. Upon further inspection, I could see that it was just as wavy and fell just as perfectly as his portraits suggested. His eyes were so vibrant that I could see them even from where we stood. Contrary to what one might believe, he did not alter their color on his book covers. They were just as bright and beautiful as I had always thought they’d be. At a beautifully calming shade of blue, his eyes were perfectly matched by his elegant robes. He smiled and winked at the next in line as we all moved up a step to stay in place. His teeth were perfectly white, and his wink was just as dazzling as the ones his pictures did. To complete his effortless image, Gilderoy Lockhart had placed his wizard’s hat – which would look absolutely ridiculous on any other person – at a slight angle atop his angelic locks.

Suddenly, Lockhart lunged forward and grabbed Harry, pulling him to his side. Words were being spoken as a photographer took their picture, but I was still recovering from the shock of being so close to Lockhart.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” I heard a voice penetrating my thoughts, which I quickly placed as Lockhart’s voice. “What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I’ve been sitting on for some time!

“When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge —” The crowd applauded again. “He had  _no idea_ , that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book,  _Magical Me_. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

I nearly screamed out of excitement, jumping up and down excitedly. A part of my brain was scoffing, saying that I was acting like a giddy schoolgirl, to which I replied that I  _was_  a giddy schoolgirl. While sighing, I saw a movement in the corner of my vision.

It was Draco Malfoy, suspiciously looking around himself. My heart, traitor that it was, began to beat faster when his gaze met mine. I narrowed my eyes into a glare as soon as his signature smirk began to twist his facial features. Wanting to escape his stares, I quietly suggested to Ron that we go and get our books.

Quickly grabbing all of the required texts, I moved to the register in record time and began to purchase my items.

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter?” he asked, sneering as he did so. I heard his voice from the other side of the store and led Ron back to Harry. “ _Famous_  Harry Potter,” he drawled maliciously. “Can’t even go into a  _bookshop_  without making the front page.”

“Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that!” I heard Ginny say, obviously mustering up all of her courage in order to stand up for Harry.

“Potter, you’ve got yourself a  _girlfriend_!” exclaimed Draco, taking advantage of any and all weaknesses that he saw.

“Oh, it’s you,” Ron sighed as he sized up Malfoy.

Draco had grown almost exactly the same amount that I did over the summer, so he was still a mere centimeter taller than I. His hair, still slicked back and showing off his widow’s peak, had grown a bit and the few centimeters of blonde locks at his nape curled upward. The baby fat on his face had lessened, causing his face to appear longer and thinner. His eyes were still the same steel grey that they had been for the previous year.

“Bet you’re surprised to see Harry here, eh?” asked Ron.

“Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley,” Draco responded, his mind churning with an insult to throw out. “I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all of those.”

Ron became as red as his hair and dropped his books into Ginny’s cauldron. Before he could take a single step toward Draco, I grabbed the back of his jacket and, with Harry’s help, pulled him back.

“Ron!” called Mr. Weasley as he pushed through the crowd with Fred and George. “What are you doing? It’s too crowded in here, let’s go outside.”

“Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley,” said a drawling voice. It sounded familiar, yet I knew that I had never heard it before. I followed the arm traveling upwards from the hand resting on Draco’s shoulder and found myself looking at a tall man with blonde hair just like Draco’s. His hair was slicked back as well, which explained why Draco’s was always like that, and it was nearly as long as my own hair. Also the same color as Draco’s, Mr. Malfoy’s eyes were narrowed to match his sneering facial expression.

“Lucius,” said Mr. Weasley, and I decided that I had officially found someone with a weirder name than mine.

“Busy time at the Ministry, I hear,” said Mr. Malfoy, apparently attempting to make small talk. I highly doubted that his words would lead to anything innocent. “All those raids… I hope they’re paying you overtime.” He then pulled out Ginny’s old Transfiguration textbook and frowned at it condescendingly. “Obviously not,” he said with disinterest. His eyes twinkled in the same manner that Draco’s did when he’d just come up with a good jab or comeback. “Dear me, what’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” said Mr. Weasley, his face flushing deeply.

“Clearly,” responded Mr. Malfoy, his eyes drifting to a spot behind Mr. Weasley. I would’ve looked to see what drew his gaze, but Draco was trying to signal me over to him without calling attention to himself. Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes at his bewildered expression in reaction to my rejection.

Suddenly, I heard Ginny’s cauldron go flying and the sound of books thudding on the ground.

“Hermione,” said Draco harshly, pulling me aside and making sure that my back was facing whatever was causing the loud noises, lest I get distracted. “I have something to give you; it’s  _really_  important.” He shoved his hand into his front pocket and began rummaging around for something. Reinforcing my disbelief in the size of boys’ pockets, he pulled out a small handful of various candies, looked through them, and scowled before sticking his hand back into his pocket to keep searching.

I looked over my shoulder to see Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy in a  _physical fight_  on the floor of Flourish and Blotts. Shaking my head, I turned back to Draco. “Can you make this quick?” I asked, shooting another look over my shoulder and spotting my parents’ horrified expressions. “Your father is traumatizing my parents.”

“Yeah, let me just…find it,” he mumbled as he switched to search his other pocket. The sound of Hagrid’s voice penetrated all the shouting in the shop.

“Break it up, there, gents, break it up –” said Hagrid, obviously wading his way through the crowd of people surrounding the skirmish.

“I could’ve sworn I brought it!” exclaimed Draco, frustration filling his voice. “Well, anyway, I got something from the library at my home, since that’s easier than risking a trip to the Restricted Section in Hogwarts, and I just really need to warn you ab–” He was cut off by his father yanking him from the shop.

For a moment I just stood there, shocked, as I tried to comprehend what had just happened. I knew that Draco had talked to me a few times the previous year, but not enough to give me the impression that we were friends. Not after his lack of contact throughout the summer. Of course, I hadn’t given him my information, but he hadn’t given me his either so it wasn’t entirely my fault.

Huffing a bit in frustration, I walked back to my parents, who were shaking due to the appalling debacle they had just witnessed.


End file.
